i will always find you
by eponnia
Summary: Six moments when Raoul comforted Christine during and after the last confrontation. [25thanniversaryverse Raoul/Christine one-shot]


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first PotO fic in a long time. There's a depressing lack of Raoul/Christine fics on FFN (or anywhere, really) so I decided to try to impact that shortage. This is based on the twenty-fifth anniversary concert (with some elements of Leroux), because Hadley Fraser and Sierra Boggess are one of the best R/C couples I've ever seen. **

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><p><em>i.<em>

"Do what you will to me, but release her!"

Raoul watched desperately, heart pounding as the dark, fallen Angel of Music held Christine by the throat, laughing manically at Raoul's fear.

"As you wish," the Phantom said mockingly, but looked down at the hand that gripped Christine's throat as if noticing his hold for the first time. "Sir," he added so quietly Raoul barely heard him, and let go of Christine. She fell to the floor, gasping.

Raoul dove to her side, falling to his knees beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and helped her up off the floor as she clung to him. "Christine, are you alright?" he said urgently, terror pounding through his veins. "Did he hurt you?" he asked fearfully, his gaze sweeping over his frightened fiancé for signs of injury. She shook her head.

"Raoul…" she whispered, voice trembling.

He shushed her soothingly, cradling her face in his hands and looking at her intensely while wiping away the tears that fell down her cheeks.

"You're safe. I'm here. I won't let him hurt you. I'm here," he said in a low voice. When the terror did not subside in her eyes, he pressed his lips to her forehead, murmuring soothing words as she clung to him.

_ii._

The moment the Phantom released him from the noose, Raoul ran to Christine. She threw herself in his arms, tears falling down her cheeks as he embraced her tightly, never wanting to let her go. He turned back only to listen to the Opera Ghost's instructions on leaving the catacombs safely, Christine pulling at his arm desperately, before he turned and ran, his fiancé at his side.

When they reached the top of the stairs and bolted through the doorway, Raoul slammed it shut behind them. He scanned the small dock to see the gondola the Phantom had described, but looked down to see Christine releasing his hand to sink to her knees, wringing her hands.

"Christine, Christine, we have to keep going," Raoul said, bending down to her as fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

"Raoul…" she said, pulling a large ring off her left ring finger, and he recognized as the one the Phantom had forced on her hand during the ruined _Don Juan Triumphant_, the performance seeming lifetimes earlier. "There's something I need to do."

"What is it? We don't have that much time left."

"I need to talk to him for a moment."

"_Him_? He just let us go, we can't jeopardize that opportunity–"

"Raoul, I need to," Christine said, looking at him.

After a moment, Raoul sighed. "I'll wait here."

"Thank you," Christine said. He helped her stand, and as she went to open the door, he put a hand on her arm.

"Please be careful."

"I will."

"I can't lose you."

"I'm not leaving you. I won't be long, Raoul," she said, pressing her lips to his cheek. She opened the door and began to descend the stairs as he observed her approaching the Phantom's bent figure.

He watched her not out of doubt that she would return, but to protect her and ensure her fallen Angel of Music kept his word.

_iii._

Christine returned in tears.

Raoul extended a hand, helped her up the last few steps, and she leaned on him for support as they went to the gondola. He put his hands on her waist to help her into the boat, and she all but collapsed in the mounds of pillows cushioning the bottom of the gondola as Raoul began to pole the boat across the underground lake.

The journey to the other shore was quiet but for the sound of the boat moving through the water. Christine did not say a word, and Raoul did not question her on what had occurred between her and the Phantom – a question for another time.

When they reached the other shore, Raoul secured the boat at the dock and held out a hand for Christine to take.

She stood in the gondola too quickly, and the boat tilted as she tried to keep her balance, the wedding dress hindering her movements. He went to the very edge of the dock and leaned forward to catch her as she fell.

He helped her onto the dock, holding her tightly as not to let her fall. "Are you alright?" he asked as he moved back until they both stood firmly on solid ground.

She straightened, but did not move out of his embrace, and nodded in response to his words, exhaustion lining her features. "Yes," Christine said in a pale voice. He watched her carefully, ever-familiar worry rising again in his chest, but she only smiled tiredly at him, saying, "We should return to the opera house."

"Of course." He went back to the boat to retrieve the lantern, the candle inside still burning, and held the light aloft, trying to remember the Phantom's instructions.

"This way," Christine said, going to a door Raoul had not seen, and he followed her into the dark passageway.

_iv._

She led them through the catacombs, ignoring the thousands of skeletons lining their path. Raoul did not mention the gruesome sights as they walked, not wanting to disturb her further.

They reached a glass door leading to what Raoul recognized as Christine's dressing room. She pressed some hidden switch, and the glass slid open. He followed her into the dark room, setting the lantern down on her desk and watching as she turned back to shut the mirror behind him.

"I don't want them to have one more way to find him," she explained, facing him.

"Why are you protecting him?" Raoul asked. He felt no anger, only concern.

"He is dying," she said. "He deserves to pass in peace, not with bloodthirsty mobs at his door. Do you understand?" Raoul nodded as she continued. "Before we go, I'd like to change."

He understood her unspoken words. She did not want questions raised about her unusual attire, as she would be hounded enough by the police and reporters. "I will wait outside," Raoul said, stepping to the door.

"Raoul, wait."

He turned back. "Could you… could you wait in here?" she asked, biting her lip still red with stage makeup. "I would feel safer if I knew you were close."

"I'd just be outside the door. It's hardly proper-"

"I don't want to be alone."

Raoul took one look at Christine's fear-filled eyes and nodded. "I will wait by the door," he said, and she gave him a grateful smile. She went to the armoire in the room and retrieved a simple gown, going behind the changing screen. He immediately dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Raoul?"

He looked up to see her looking around the edge of the screen, still wearing the wedding dress and a blush staining her pale cheeks. His confusion must have been evident, for she explained in a quiet voice, "I… I can't loosen the stays on the dress…"

"Do you require my assistance?" He forced himself to appear calm. At her timid nod, he approached the screen, wiping his hands on his trousers.

_This is not for you. Do not make her uncomfortable. Just help her out of the dress and leave her be._

Swallowing hard, he went behind the screen.

She stood with her back to him, reaching up to brush her long, dark curls over her shoulder, her skin nearly as pale as the gown she wore. He slowly approached her, eyeing the tight stays on the back of the dress.

"How do I go about doing this?"

She looked back over her shoulder with a self-conscious smile. "Loosen them like you would… a boot, I suppose." Christine blushed. "Forgive me, that was a confusing analogy, I–"

"I understand." He reached out to brush a strand of her hair off her back and over her shoulder, the dark curl smooth in his fingers.

Raoul began to tug at the stays, which proved to very tight indeed. It was as if the Phantom had wanted to ensure she would not escape even from the physical confides of the wedding gown, much less the binding agreement he had intended to force to comply to. Raoul worked slowly at first, but then loosened the stays as quickly as he could without hurting Christine. Once this reminder of the night was gone, they could leave it all behind.

He finished, and the back of the gown fell open. Though she wore a chemise underneath, Raoul saw red marks on her back due to the stays.

"Christine…" he said, reaching out a hand but stopping just before he touched her back, remembering his place. "I'll- I'll go wait by the door."

"Thank you," she said quietly as he went back to the door, keeping his back to her.

He heard rustling fabric and did his best not to imagine the dress sliding off her body, his fiancé standing only in a chemise just across the room. She was more than just her body; she was a person, not an object to fantasize about. She deserved for him to think only honorable thoughts of her, no matter her status in society.

_v._

Raoul led Christine through the crowd of shouting police officers, reporters, patrons, and employees of the opera house after giving a statement in her name. She had been daunted by the crowd, and asked him to speak, explaining that public speaking was not where her performance skills were useful.

He put his arm around her as they made their way through the mass of people swarming through the halls of the opera house. She leaned into him as people pushed against them in the crowd, ducking her head, and he quickened their pace.

Raoul finally found a door and led her through it, doing his best to suppress the urge to hit reporters who kept firing questions at Christine. He located his carriage and hurried his fiancé towards it, doing his best to shield her from the reporters. The driver said nothing as the viscount helped the singer into the carriage, the crowd starting to surround it as the horses started to react.

"Mademoiselle Daaé! What is your full relationship with the monster?"

"When did you first meet him?"

"Tell us the truth of what happened when he kidnapped you off the stage!"

"Did you go willingly?"

"Is it true the monster came into your dressing room?"

The moment Raoul shut the carriage door behind them, Christine burying her face in her hands, he knocked firmly on the ceiling of the carriage to tell the driver to go. The crowds were forced to move back as the carriage went into the street and moved at a canter away from the opera house.

As the carriage swayed from the fast pace, Raoul put a hand on Christine's shoulder, worry for her rising once more in his chest. She looked up at him, lowering her hands to her lap, and, seeing her anxiety, he wordlessly pulled her into his chest. She clung to his waistcoat, burying her face in his shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair, murmuring soothing words.

_vi._

The carriage stopped in front of her flat, a light in one of the windows. Raoul helped Christine up the stairs to the door, knocking firmly. An old woman - Mamma Valerius, wasn't it? the woman who had raised Christine? – opened it and only sighed at the sight of her charge and the viscount.

They helped Christine into the apartment, and Raoul waited while the old woman took his fiancé into her room. The apartment was as bare as the first time he had entered it to ask Mamma Valerius about the Angel of Music. He looked up as the woman in question emerged from Christine's room.

"She asked for you."

"It would not be proper-"

"Propriety hardly matters on a night like this," Mamma Valerius said, going to the kitchen table and taking a seat.

Raoul warred with himself for a moment before going to the door. He had already broken society's rules by helping his fiancé unlace her gown while alone with her in a dressing room, but entering her personal room was another matter entirely.

But she had asked for him, and he wouldn't deny her this.

"Christine?" he said, knocking on the door.

"Come in, Raoul," came her voice, and he opened the door.

She was standing by the window in only a dressing gown, and his upbringing told him to leave. But he paused, and when she turned to meet his gaze, he could not care in the least what society said. Christine needed him.

They met in the middle of the room. Christine all but fell into his embrace, clinging to him as if her life depended on it, and as if by habit, he began to gently run a hand through her curls.

"I can't stop reliving it in my head," she whispered. "All I see is the noose around your neck and _him_…" Christine lifted her head from his shoulder and brought her fingertips to his neck, where an angry red mark still encircled his throat, a result from the tight noose. As her fingers brushed his skin, he watched her intently. It would be so simple to close the space between them and press his lips to hers…

He took a step back, surprising Christine. _Control yourself, man! _he told himself.

"I can't stay."

"Please don't go," she begged. "I can't bear to be alone. Not tonight."

"Christine…"

"Please, Raoul," she whispered. As he gazed into her eyes, seeing tears beginning to well, he knew he couldn't leave even if another noose appeared around his neck.

Hang propriety.

"I'll stay."


End file.
